


didn't know that i was starving ('til i tasted you)

by maidenstar



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, POV Waverly Earp, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, Smut, and some introspection with like a, but i guess it's more, but i'm gonna argue it's like a LOT of feelings, considering all the things in her rship which are better now, followed by an unreasonably protracted sex scene, like i'm gonna be real with you chief, porn with introspection?, that's it that's the fic, this is just a lot of domestic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 20:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15421176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maidenstar/pseuds/maidenstar
Summary: "They are easing into each other so slowly, so deliciously that Waverly thinks that she could gladly do nothing more for the rest of her life than drag her hands over every inch of Nicole Haught’s naked body."Time doesn't always move like it should, not when you live in Purgatory. In fact, it has not been especially long since they started touching likethatbut already, there is nothing Waverly Earp wants more than the sweet softness of Nicole Haught beneath her fingertips.Or, Waverly and Nicole can't stop touching, and Waverly can't stop thinking about how it is all so different now that Nicole is the one holding her close...





	didn't know that i was starving ('til i tasted you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Addictedtotvshows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Addictedtotvshows/gifts).



> Soooo. Hiiiii...
> 
> This (not so) little explicit piece is very much not the thing I had been expecting to publish next. That dubious pleasure should have gone to an ever-lengthening childhood friends piece that is still evading completion rather well despite my very best (and unexpected) efforts to write near-continuously for about 3 weeks solid. 
> 
> For anyone who is rather wisely ignoring my twitter presence, I really have had quite the couple of weeks. Short story (and we all know I rarely tell those) someone probably did a hit and run number on me whilst I was on my pushbike and I sort of broke a lot of my face. Rushed to hospital, surgery, the works - just your average Saturday in mid-July. I'm now going stir-crazy while I'm signed off of...life...basically, so have been writing like a woman possessed. It is perhaps the only silver lining to come out of an admittedly not too serious RTA. 
> 
> So although I have a couple of extended AUs on the go, I have also been promising someone (Liz) a PWP for more months than I can count. So with so much time off, the prospect of horrible dentist work/bills, and a slight loss of sanity/perspective, I finally wrote this for someone (Liz). 
> 
> Nonetheless, I hope that it might be of...interest? (can I say that about porn?) to some others too. I need you all to understand that despite my best efforts I am British, the Britishness is jumping out, and writing/posting stuff like this is waaaay out of my comfort zone. Hence why I am doing it. That being said I don't really know how to preface this. 
> 
> To quote Wynonna, it's just sex. That's it. That's the fic. Well, if you ask me it's sex with fluff at the start/end, feelings, and hopefully a tiny bit of introspection. But I'll leave you to decide on that one. 
> 
> I would argue that it falls somewhere near 2x02 but I’m just pretending there’s no Mictian to worry about because I just want to let myself imagine the growing intimacy between them without Mictian there. (I’m definitely stretching the timeframe here with the ref to Nicole’s long hair, but I’m pretty sure that’s not what I or anyone else is taking from this). 
> 
> As I say, this is maybe the third time I’ve written/published anything smutty and it’s still something that’s about 100 miles wide of my writing comfort zone, so I'm pretty nervous about publishing this one and it's likely it might never have seen the light of day is someone (still Liz) hadn't told me it was decent enough to put out there. If you fancy assuaging my fears with a comment or a tweet to @rositabustiiios then it would be much appreciated! 
> 
> Anywayyyy...I hope you enjoy...

_By the way, right away, you do things to my body…_

 

 

The landscape behind the window is all snow and stillness and if there is a world of trouble out there baying and begging for attention then, for once, it has fallen silent.

In fact, if there is something more in the universe than the sight of Nicole Haught curled up on her couch, relaxed and open as she waits for Waverly, then it passes by unnoticed.

There is surely only the two of them, Waverly thinks, only their hearts beating together in all of space.

It is the first time all day that they have come together and Waverly has found herself counting in minutes and seconds since the morning, waiting restlessly for Nicole to finish her shift.

She has never known it, a longing like this one.

And by God, Waverly Earp has _longed_.

She has longed for her missing family, she has longed for resolution, for closure. She has longed for broader horizons and adventure and, perversely, for security - all at once.

But she has never longed like she does for Nicole, deep and desperate in a way that makes her wrists strain and her palms ache.

It is almost a foreign concept to her.

With Champ she had longed for something different, for a deeper sense of connection or for unbridled companionship or for love.

With Nicole, the longing is one that is soulful; a heart looking for its own completion whenever they are apart.

And even passing a regular, nine-to-five workday had felt too long. By mid-afternoon, Waverly had cracked.

 _Can I see you tonight_? she had texted, only half-worried that she might come across as clingy. It was early days, but she knew they were almost entirely on the same page already. Nicole’s instantaneous response was proof enough of that.

 _Baby, you know you can see me whenever you want_.

There was a heart emoji, several actually - because of course there were, and an equal sense of _missing_ and _waiting_ behind Nicole’s words.

 _Not right now I can’t_ , Waverly had replied, hoping that a soft pout was implied.

Nicole is right there with her, always soothing and always, without fail, reassuring. _Hey,_ _I miss you too_.

_Wynonna is in tonight. Should I cook and bring it round to yours when you get home? You know, if I HAVE to wait that long._

Nicole’s response surprises Waverly, because she might be soft and steadfast but she is always thrumming with a strange, magnetic charm and energy too. Always, she is able to throw Waverly for a loop.

 _Go round whenever you like. I meant to say, I’ve started leaving a key under the green planter for you. There’s still pasta in the fridge - we can have that, unless you want something nicer_.

Nicole has cooked for Waverly before and she is good at it, so ‘something nicer’ does not especially appeal. What _does_ appeal, however, is the idea that Nicole has started leaving a key for Waverly, has perhaps started seeing her house as Waverly’s space too.

It sends Waverly’s heart into her mouth and only drives that sense of _wanting_ deeper into her stomach.

So, restless and with little interest in Black Badge work, she goes to Nicole’s place early. It is nice just to be there; it is nice to smell Nicole and to see her in all the little details of her home.

By the time the police cruiser pulls up in the early dark of winter, Waverly has already heated up their food and lit a few candles.

She is crouched in the hallway, trying to coax an ever-aloof Calamity Jane to her with a small catnip mouse when Nicole finally steps inside in her civvies, beaming when she realises that Waverly is waiting.

It is startlingly domestic, and Waverly surprises herself at the way this realisation feels. Even after all that time with Champ, Waverly had never really seen herself in a scenario like this. Now though, she sees how much she wants it - if it is with Nicole. Frankly, she wants everything with Nicole.

She even breathes differently when they both occupy the same space, like her body settles and the spaces between her ribs aren’t drawn quite so tightly inwards.

But if Waverly stops to think about it tonight, Nicole looks tired. She has been doing long hours at the station, and has a lot to consider now that she is aware of the Earp curse and all of the stress it entails. The moment she sees Waverly there though, the weight lifts and the sunshine smile on her face cuts across the dark clouds beneath her eyes.

She kicks her boots off, snow scattering under their soles, and plucks her thick, warm work beanie from her head.

Giving up on Calamity Jane as a lost cause (the cat has bypassed Waverly entirely in favour of winding herself around Nicole’s legs while she hangs her coat up) Waverly stands, leaning into Nicole’s embrace the second it is offered.

The first kiss is short and sweet. It is almost perfunctory, a greeting that is so natural and easy that it makes Waverly’s heart sing, but it does little to quell the surge of need in her bloodstream. The second kiss is deeper, and Waverly is ready to drive it further when Nicole’s stomach audibly growls and she smiles against Waverly’s lips.

She pulls away, sweet and sheepish as she apologises.

“I skipped lunch today.”

Waverly shakes her head, reminding herself that Nicole has been at work all day and probably wants peace.

She falls into it so easily, that self doubt and refusal to take up too much space. ‘Work’ had always been a loose term for what Champ did running odd jobs around the town with Curtis or Shorty, but so often he would come home distant and disinterested. Most days he wanted to eat or play video games, but rarely did he want to talk or even to touch except on his own terms - when he wanted it, or when he was ready. Rather, he had always seemed petulant when Waverly proved to be a distraction.

It had always been one of the worst feelings for Waverly - the sense of annoying someone she wanted to be around. She does not want Nicole to apologise, especially in her own home. 

“Don’t be sorry. I heated up the food."

Nicole smiles again, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of Waverly’s nose.

“Thank you baby.”

  
  
  


 

They eat in the kitchen because Nicole has some small sense of order that seems to keep her from eating dinner on the couch the way they do at the Homestead sometimes. They talk, too, about Nicole’s day and about Black Badge work and about any fleeting thought that passes through either of their heads.

It is clear that Nicole has had a long day, a busy and stressful day, but she gives with all her soul - just as she normally does.

In response, Waverly insists on clearing up and sending Nicole into the living room to relax. And although the latter protests, perhaps Waverly is falling into old routines once more, used to taking care of Champ as one might take care of a puppy rather than a partner.

That, of course, is not how things have ever been with Nicole, but still Waverly worries when she works so hard and invests so much into the cases she is tracking...

“Many hands,” Nicole says as she tries to help, until Waverly urges her into the living room to find something for them to watch. After all, it is only a matter of loading up the dishwasher and pouring two more glasses of wine. Mere moments later, she finds Nicole waiting with a movie paused on the television. She has turned the living room light off, leaving only a corner lamp and candles to light Waverly’s way.

Nicole looks beautiful in the low light, and Waverly finds herself staring as she hands the glasses over so that they can be set on the coffee table. The yellow glow of light is warm, fiery magic on Nicole’s pale skin and red hair, making her look ethereal. It is as though she belongs on stained glass, all that rich colour shining out.

 _After all, she is_ _alight on the inside too_ , Waverly decides, well aware of the gentle warmth blazing in Nicole’s kind heart.

Before she sits, Waverly draws the curtains. Already certain that the world out there can surely contain nothing of much importance, she is keen to shut it out regardless. Anything which reinforces the feeling that it is just the two of them together.

Nicole has curled almost instinctively into one side of the couch to make room for Waverly, who joins her without hesitation. It is easy to gravitate closer, to press together and fuse at the hips and thighs and shoulders.

As winter had dug its heels into the soil, Nicole has taken to leaving more and more blankets draped over the top of the couch and she spreads one out over them both before handing Waverly a second just for her.

Waverly does not bother to ask what movie she has picked when Nicole presses play. They both know it is not the primary focus. After a long day, Waverly is just content to be in Nicole’s orbit and it seems that the feeling is mutual. Nicole immediately drifts, pressing their bodies even closer and leaning in so that she is resting against Waverly’s side.

“I missed this,” Waverly murmurs, “even if I saw you the other night.”

Nicole hums a quiet and happy assent, eyes drifting shut contentedly when Waverly ghosts a hand over her shoulders and across the nape of her neck.

She still has her hair up, Waverly realises as she drifts a finger to the end of Nicole’s braid, observing where a few stray hairs are starting to fall loose at the bottom. It is easy to remember how it felt to twist her fingers through the thick strands of the braid for the first time, looping them through sections of hair as the solid, comforting weight of Nicole’s body pressed her back into the Sheriff’s couch. It amazes her still that she had the courage to make such a bold move in such a public space.

Still buoyant on the memory, Waverly starts to press her fingers into Nicole’s hair, raking her nails lightly and not bothering to worry as the braid goes slack in places. After a moment or two, she feels Nicole sigh and sag against her, angling her body slightly and granting Waverly full access to her neck.

She always seems to court Waverly’s touch, but it is more noticeable still when she has had a tough day at work.

“Feel nice?”

Nicole nods, her head moving against Waverly’s palm. “ _Mmhm_. So, _so_ nice.”

Spurred on, Waverly uses both hands to start undoing the braid, the way she knows Nicole would have done had she not been distracted by dinner. Slowly and gradually she works a few bobby pins loose and unravels each strand until Nicole’s red hair is free to settle around her shoulders. Slipping Nicole’s hair ties around her own wrist for a moment, Waverly uses both hands to comb through the tresses, enjoying the way Nicole’s hair feels soft and silky around her fingers. Now loose, it retains a few waves from the braid and it smells more strongly of Nicole’s fruity, nondescript shampoo.

Every so often, Nicole makes a tiny noise of satisfaction as Waverly’s nails scratch lightly against her scalp, or when Waverly eases a few tiny tangles from her hair. The sounds hit Waverly square in her stomach, as does the way Nicole’s body seems to slip into peaceful relaxation with every stroke of Waverly’s hands.

It feels nice, too, to play with Nicole’s hair, to let it slip like satin over her hands or to wind it gently round her fingers.

Best of all, though, is the way Nicole leans more and more into the touch until eventually she is all but spooned into Waverly, their bodies melding like they are molten gold and blending together. Almost instinctively, they both shift so that they are sprawled out across the full length of the couch, Nicole’s back propped up on Waverly and their legs tangled together.

In the short time they have been together, Waverly has already seen Nicole’s tendency towards protection. She shows her love by caring for others and Waverly delights in it, truly. She adores the feeling of Nicole’s body curled protectively around her, letting Waverly rest atop her chest and snuggle into her neck. It was how she had held her the night after Willa had died and Waverly had cried to see the pain in Wynonna’s eyes.

Even so, Waverly would be lying if she said she did not also delight in feeling the weight of Nicole above her, pressing down just enough to feel warm and comfortable; a cocoon rather than a cage.

Satisfied that Nicole is starting to unwind, Waverly parts her hair so that she can press a small, soft kiss to the back of her neck.

Nicole murmurs again, evidently happy when Waverly drops a few more kisses to her neck, moving around to the soft skin of her throat and then the sharp, proud arch of her jaw.

Waverly cannot say for sure whether it is _that_ kind of a night, but since that first time in her new room at the Homestead, most of their time together had been, at the very least, charged. Her body is always swimming with the memory of it on some low level, and once again this is something entirely new to Waverly. 

It would be unfair to say that she had never enjoyed sex before. But it had never been like _this_ , even if she and Nicole had only gone to bed a handful of times. Even if Waverly is still learning.

The thing about dating Champ had been that it had forced Waverly onto one of two paths; accept the status quo or go out and get what she wanted. There had only been so many times she could sleep with him, with his insistent and fast-paced march towards an end result (as well as his subtle disinterest in anything that could be deemed foreplay), before Waverly took it upon herself to learn her own body and how to pleasure it.

She had always been good at making sure things felt as nice as possible for her, what she had never experienced before was having a partner who did so too. She had enjoyed intimacy before Nicole, but she had never craved it like she does now.

And it seems that Nicole is happy to reciprocate, because after a few more chaste kisses from Waverly she tilts her head so that their lips can meet comfortably, easily, and if there was any question as to where the night is heading, it disappears as they settle into a deep kiss that Waverly feels right to the tips of her toes.

Even now, still soft and half-sleepy from food and small measures of wine, their lips are greedy and Waverly’s hands are no better. She had felt Nicole’s plain grey tank top ride up as she shifted on the couch earlier, and it is impossible not to let her fingers slide over the soft skin of Nicole’s hip.

Nicole’s own hand has made it to Waverly’s inner thigh, coasting up and down over her leggings in an absent, unhurried way that is as pleasant as it is frustrating in its lack of friction.

Waverly has started to see now that this is all part of Nicole’s design, these caresses that are so slow they seem almost aimless. Appearances, though, are deceptive because Nicole knows exactly what she is doing. In fact, she seems to have a particular talent for a sort of slow, burning torture that leaves Waverly feeling as though she has been turned inside out.

Even now, Nicole’s mouth is hot against Waverly’s, her lips firm as her teeth press ever so slightly at her bottom lip and, already, Waverly feels her blood start to simmer.

She slips her hand further up Nicole’s shirt, enjoying the contrast of smooth skin over hard muscle, letting her fingers graze at the edge of Nicole’s bra.

Nicole smiles against her lips, breaking the kiss for a moment to adjust her position until she is braced above Waverly, dipping down to press her lips against Waverly’s cheeks. Again she is slow and soft and blissfully unhurried, and it is almost as though Waverly can feel Nicole’s deep-seated contentment through her skin. It passes through to Waverly in a moment of such unbridled happiness that her breath hitches, just as Nicole reaches down for another kiss.

They breathe each other in, Waverly feeling more brazen as she slides her tongue between Nicole’s lips.

Nicole moans in response, just a quiet tremor trapped at the back of her throat, but it is enough to start the first flutterings of _something_ in Waverly’s core, or perhaps to make her aware of them for the first time that night. That familiar sense of longing settles in her bones again and with it comes a subtler air of desperation than she had not felt earlier. 

Her hands, both now beneath Nicole’s shirt, drift up to slide deliciously over her breasts, desperate for contact unhindered by the gauzy material of a sports bra between their skin.

A small noise of frustration slips free and Nicole smiles again. She draws back once more but when she whispers she takes care to ensure that their lips ghost together.

“Easy baby, we have all night.”

Waverly feels herself pout, knows she must be doing so when Nicole chuckles.

“Why can’t I have you now _and_ all night?” she asks, drawing her hands to the hem of Nicole’s shirt in a wordless request. 

Her comment makes Nicole laugh louder for a second, before she settles and quirks an eyebrow.

“I never said you couldn’t,” she murmurs, voice slipping back into a that deep, sultry husk Waverly has come to associate with moments like this. It is all the acquiescence she needs to draw Nicole’s shirt over her head as Nicole shifts her weight to allow Waverly to discard it on the floor entirely. She gives herself a moment to appreciate the exposed skin, sadly not all visible with Nicole’s body barely hovering above her, but deliciously warm beneath her touch. It is not enough to stoke the heat gradually pooling between her legs though, and Nicole’s bra quickly follows her shirt.

Too aroused now to feel abashed, Waverly reaches straight for Nicole’s chest, spreading her fingers across the soft skin, kneading and letting the heel of each hand cup at the soft underside of Nicole’s breasts.

A happy, loopy smile blooms on Nicole’s face and her eyes fall gently shut as she arches into Waverly’s embrace, content to let her touch and explore.

The first few times, Waverly had been conscious of placing every touch deliberately, of ensuring that each tiny connection was a means to an end, the way sex had always been for her in the time before. By now though, she is used to the simple joy of feeling connected to Nicole, of letting the warmth of her - body and soul - settle at her fingertips. It is all the more intense now, the more they learn about the other’s bodies and tastes. They are easing into each other so slowly, so deliciously that Waverly thinks that she could gladly do nothing more for the rest of her life than drag her hands over every inch of Nicole Haught’s naked body.

When they first slept together, it had been obvious that Nicole had been overtly focussed on Waverly’s pleasure. Of course, she was always attentive - it was a hallmark of hers in and out of the bedroom. But Waverly’s newness in this department did not escape either of them, and Nicole had almost naturally fallen into the guise of teacher. She hadn’t held back (that was not Nicole’s style) and the sex was almost impossibly good from the beginning, but now Nicole is starting to trust herself to let go and Waverly could feel the prickle of it in her whole body like an electric shock.

She wants to keep learning, still has lots of things to experience, but now she has made Nicole come - now she knows she is capable of it - the nerves are dimming and leaving only the static crackle of expectancy and excitement in their wake.

(And _oh_ , the joy and the relief and the hot, sweet _pleasure_ she had felt to reach between Nicole’s legs that very first time and find her warm and wet with wanting. Waverly had dreamed about it, of course, fantasised about Nicole slick with arousal at her touch, but in truth she had worried she might not be able to get Nicole there when the time arrived).

Now though, there is only learning - as much learning as she wants. And God, Waverly wants it all.

She skims a thumb over one of Nicole’s nipples, already aware of where she is more sensitive to the touch. It is not all that Waverly wants, though, because touching is wonderful but tasting is better.

“Baby, come closer,” she murmurs, hands drifting to Nicole’s back and pulling her in.

Above her, Nicole bends with a sigh, shifting until Waverly can reach up and nuzzle against the satin swell of her chest. Her tongue dips out, sweeping and tasting and sucking a nipple between her lips.

Nicole sighs like a prayer, and Waverly goes further, swirling her tongue at the sensitive flesh until Nicole jerks against her mouth. She reaches to pluck gently at Nicole’s other breast, pinching just enough to skirt the line between pleasure and pain, just as she has learnt Nicole likes - whether she admits it or not.

Nicole squirms again, a delighted little laugh bubbling within her as she strokes an affectionate hand through Waverly’s hair.

“You’re so good at that baby,” she murmurs fondly, and Waverly feels herself _glow_ because Nicole clearly means it, but also because she is saying it aloud in recognition of Waverly’s need for affirmation.

It had started off as an insecurity thing - “ _I don’t know what I’m meant to_ do _, Nicole,_ ” - and now she was starting to realise that she just liked getting feedback.

It is yet another previously foreign concept to her, the fact that she quite likes communicating in bed. Things hadn’t got seriously loud between them - not yet - but she has certainly found it enjoyable to hear the evidence that she is doing a good job.

She hums happily against Nicole’s skin, because she is loathe to pull away just yet.

Nicole’s fingers slip from Waverly’s hair and drift down to graze at her shoulders, gripping slightly wildly at her through the fabric of her sweater.

“Waves,” she husks out as Waverly hollows her cheeks and bears down again on Nicole’s breast. “I want to feel you too.”

The words send a shudder through Waverly and she pulls back slightly, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses over Nicole’s chest and up towards the neat, hard line of her clavicle. Daring, she leaves one harder, bruising kiss below her collarbone, low enough that Nicole can hide it but visible enough that the sight of purple and blue will send a pulse between Waverly’s thighs for the rest of the week.

Nicole grunts slightly inelegantly when Waverly draws the mark to her skin, the action unexpected and apparently deliciously possessive if the way Nicole’s body arches is anything to go by.

“ _Waverly_.”

“Sorry,” Waverly whispers, lathing her tongue over the spot throbbing on Nicole’s chest, pulling back to look. Fascinated, she presses a finger experimentally over the wet spot as, already, it glows pink in the dim room. She has given love bites before, of course she has, it is not even the first time she has done it to Nicole. The slight urge to mark, however, is yet another new sensation.

“Don’t be, I liked it,” Nicole groans, hands reaching to cup at Waverly’s face and urge their lips together for a hard, hungry kiss. Nicole takes her own turn to nip at Waverly, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as they break apart, Waverly gasping at the jolt running through her.

Moving faster now, Nicole pulls at Waverly’s jumper and Waverly helps her remove it. They are at an odd angle, caught together on the couch with Nicole just barely supporting herself over Waverly’s torso and their legs bracketed tightly together. Waverly is sure Nicole must be able to feel the surging heat between her legs, but cannot much bring herself to care.

Nicole, for her own part, seems far more set on removing Waverly’s bra, which she does with ease once Waverly has propped herself up on her elbows again.

She takes her own time to thumb at Waverly’s breasts, before the urge to kiss Nicole has Waverly dragging her down fully, urging her to drop more of her weight down onto Waverly’s body.

“Tell me if I get too heavy,” Nicole murmurs, lips insistent as they press at the column of Waverly’s throat.

“Like feeling you on top of me like this,” Waverly admits as she fixes her lips to Nicole’s once more, feeling a little desperate again as Nicole lays herself against Waverly’s bare body.

Waverly feels almost self-conscious about it, but that particular sensation still overwhelms her. It had stuck with her, the first time Nicole’s breasts had pressed against her own, so much soft skin and gentle, comforting warmth. Now, it is perhaps becoming one of her favourite things, letting Nicole settle against her like that. It feels indescribably open and intimate, which seems a strange reflection to Waverly when she considers the way Nicole’s tongue currently lays deliciously heavy against her own.

They both moan when Waverly drags her nails down Nicole’s back, not hard enough to scratch or even to hurt, but certainly sufficient to leave goosebumps on Nicole’s skin. Something seems to snap in Nicole then and she rakes her hands through Waverly’s hair before breaking the kiss.

“Okay,” she gasps, voice pitched in the determined way one might say _okay, that’s it_. She straightens her back until she is sitting up and Waverly feels her face go slack as she watches the way Nicole’s body moves. Her pale skin is tinged with pink, drifting downwards in little patches from her neck. 

She is breathtaking like that; blushed and ruffled and utterly debauched with that bruise blooming below her collarbone.

Waverly will never tire of the sight of her. Never.

“C’mon,” Nicole adds, voice still breathy and short. “Upstairs, please.”

For the briefest of moments Waverly hesitates because a (repeat) round of sex on Nicole’s couch feels tempting, but the wide open space of her bed just edges it.

She rises too, lets Nicole pull her off the couch and into her arms.

“You’re beautiful,” she gasps between kisses as Nicole pulls her blindly through the house, because she had wanted to say it before but it is like her voice catches every time they’re together.

“Smooth talker,” Nicole chuckles, guiding them slowly up the stairs. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

She is joking, of course she is, but Waverly needs her to _know_.

“I have never, ever seen anyone - anything - more beautiful than you.”

They are at the threshold to Nicole’s bedroom when she pulls them apart again. She throws a pointed look at Waverly before she says,

“Well I certainly have.”

  
  
  
  


Nicole scatters herself like stardust.

She is ethereal, otherworldly, and she scorches every time she sparks her fingers over Waverly’s skin.

She has Waverly pressed firmly into the bed, back against the cushions as she drags her leggings down and tosses them carelessly onto the floor.

She smiles at Waverly, lust and hunger and something like _love_ written on her face in equal measure, dragging her hand up the length of Waverly’s leg. She lingers on the sensitive skin at Waverly’s thigh, and Waverly feels the pulse just above Nicole’s fingers grow deeper.

She squirms, trying to arch down to meet Nicole’s hand.

It is the wrong decision as Nicole slackens her grip immediately, climbing higher up Waverly’s body until her stomach settles warm against Waverly’s legs.

“Tease,” Waverly gasps, feeling her body twist as Nicole plants a kiss squarely between her breasts, her tongue darting out to follow her lips and travel down.

“Patience is a virtue, Waverly Earp,” she replies softly as her forefinger follows in the wake of her mouth.

Waverly huffs. “It doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“Really?” Nicole asks, raising her eyebrows in mock innocence. She fiddles a little with the elastic of Waverly’s underwear where it sits at her groin. “You’re not enjoying yourself?”

Waverly groans again as Nicole’s fingers drift so painfully close to where she wants them, drawing back the second she feels Waverly shift beneath her.

She grips at Waverly’s hips, fingers biting exquisitely, before nipping her teeth at Waverly’s ribs and drawing an unexpected, wordless cry from Waverly. The sound is muffled as it leaves her, caught in her mouth as she grits her teeth against the fresh flood of heat that drifts through her.

She had no idea it could be this good, this keenly torturous until Nicole had lit the match and let it burn slow like a layer of ash on her bones.

“Oh baby,” Nicole adds, her voice a gentle coo. “I’m so sorry you’re having such a terrible night.”

Somehow, Waverly manages a laugh. “Oh I am _so_ going to get my own back on you soon.”

Nicole sits back on her knees, beaming and evidently pleased with herself when she sees how she has riled Waverly.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

  
  
  
  


Waverly manages to collect herself long enough to get Nicole out of her jeans, biting her lip against a moan when she catches sight of a pretty dark patch visible through her underwear.

But if Nicole is even half as aroused as Waverly feels, she somehow manages to ignore it as she kicks her trousers off her ankles and edges down the bed on her stomach, parting Waverly's legs with a gentle hand at each knee.

Her mouth finds the skin of Waverly’s inner thigh, still slow and easy as she nips and sucks and coaxes little high-pitched mewls from the very back of Waverly’s throat.

At one point, Nicole bites down harder than intended when Waverly's body jumps like a coiled spring and she shoots back with a gasp.

“Wave - ”

“Don't you dare,” Waverly rasps, brain swimming at the sudden shock of it, at the way it stings, at the way she _likes_ it. Nicole reads it in her body immediately but still she looks unsure, like she is worried she has stepped over some boundary. 

From her position against the pillows, Waverly can see she bruise blooming on her thigh and the sight of it makes her eyelids flutter.

She had never thought she would enjoy something like that, thinks that maybe she would not enjoy it at all with anyone but Nicole. Certainly, she would never have entertained it with Champ, unintentional or not.

With Nicole settled between her legs though, she feels the way her body tremors at the sight of that one deep bruise.

She sees it for what it is: trust, bone-deep and earth-shaking, and maybe something else too, something a little like love.

Nicole watches the play of emotions on Waverly’s face with immense care. Her fingers trace over the mark and she pulls a surprised expression when Waverly moans in a way that is new even to her.

“Good to know,” Nicole says with a gentle smile which grows hotter as she drifts back to Waverly’s body and leaves a smaller, gentler, but no less provocative mark on the other leg.

“I always did prefer symmetry,” she jokes, but Waverly is at the end of her tether, body pulled taut like a violin string and begging to make a melody.

“ _Nicole_.” 

“ _Yes Waverly?”_

Again, it is not something she would have ever considered before, would certainly not have come _close_ to with Champ but with Nicole, Waverly is not above pleading.

 _“Please_.”

Nicole smiles, gives a tiny laugh, and slips her fingers under the waistband of Waverly’s underwear.

“All you had to do was ask love.”

“Tease.”

Nicole pauses, still grinning like this might be the happiest she has ever been, and holds Waverly’s gaze for a moment. When she speaks again, her voice burns in a way that sends shivers up Waverly’s back and she wonders briefly if it is possible to peak just from Nicole speaking to her.

“I’m serious Waverly. Anything you want, I’ll give it to you.”

Waverly swallows, certain it must have been audible, and when she replies she can only seem to manage a tiny whisper.

“I just want you.”

“Well then, I’m sure that can be arranged.”

Nicole’s eyes never once leave Waverly’s as her hand finally slips lower, cupping her through thin, damp fabric and it is the heat in her gaze as much as anything that draws a sharp, startling cry from Waverly’s lips. Even featherlight and hindered by a layer of cotton, Nicole’s fingers have her lighting up like a circuit board.

Nicole sucks in a breath when she feels how wet Waverly is.

“ _Jesus_ baby.”

Waverly draws her bottom lip under her teeth. “I _told_ you you were a tease.” 

“I know but I wasn’t expecting - ” Nicole’s voice comes out strangled and hoarse, and she drops her head against Waverly’s pelvis for a moment in a blatant attempt to collect herself. That, and the way her fingers continue moving softly sends another almost unbearable ripple of desire through Waverly and she arches her back to increase the pressure of Nicole’s fingers.

“I need…”

But Waverly cannot articulate it, cannot even hope for fully-formed sentences as Nicole recovers and brings her head back up, free hand finally starting to drag her underwear down.

“I know baby. I know.”

She delicately drops the fabric to one side, before placing a surprisingly chaste kiss to the centre of Waverly’s navel and ghosting her hand down Waverly’s centre, fingers light and lovely as she teases some of the wetness through Waverly’s folds. Even now, with Waverly moaning and feeling like she might disintegrate without more friction between them, Nicole is gentle and unhurried, teasing her with wide, flighty circles round her clit.

Waverly’s hands, wide and yawning with Nicole’s body so far away, fly to Nicole’s hair, scraping lightly and begging for anything to keep her anchored. She feels her head drop back, hears the way her breath comes in tiny pants, wondering how on earth she is supposed to feel more than this. Every time she is with Nicole, she thinks it can’t possibly get better, thinks her body cannot possibly accommodate the depth of pleasure swimming through her blood.

Nicole chuckles, increasing the pressure slightly on her centre and Waverly, bucking slightly, realises she must have said something aloud.

“I’m gonna make sure it always gets better Waverly. Every,” her finger bears down slightly more, “damn,” and again, “time.”

Then, just as Waverly is worried she might strain something if her back arches any higher, Nicole’s hands are gone and Waverly feels her lungs deflate with an embarrassing whine.

Nicole does not leave her for long, however, just repositions herself slightly on the bed and drifts her middle finger closer to Waverly’s entrance, hovering, waiting for Waverly’s say-so.

“Yes, God yes. I want...Nicole I need you inside me.”

She does not need to be told twice, sliding deep into Waverly’s heat in one smooth motion. There is barely stretch and almost no resistance, but the sensation of Nicole curling inside her blows away a little of the tension in Waverly’s shoulders.

Nicole can already read Waverly like a book and, between kisses and little tiny sucks against Waverly’s belly she murmurs, “more?”

“ _More_ ,” Waverly affirms, and when Nicole’s finger leaves her, it is rejoined a moment later by a second digit. Nicole waits until she feels Waverly accommodate the extra stretch before moving, setting a pace that is languorous and light enough to make Waverly’s head spin with desire and the knowledge of what Nicole can build up to. 

Almost of their own accord, her hips surge to match Nicole’s rhythm, only to then feel her girlfriend’s free hand press low over her belly, stilling her movements.

“Let me do this for you Wave,” she hushes. “Trust me okay?”

“I do,” Waverly insists quickly. “I’d trust you to do anything.”

This coaxes a little moan from Nicole which in turn has Waverly writhing on the bed again, her body moving of its own accord.

“What are you trying to do to me?” Nicole asks, fingers still moving as she increases their pace slightly.

“ _Me_?” Waverly chokes, incredulous. “Look at what you’re doing to me.”

“This?” Nicole asks, feigning confusion as she curls her fingers. “This is nothing.”

“Money where your mouth is, Officer,” Waverly replies, fighting to keep her voice even.

“Nah,” Nicole replies almost carelessly. “Mouth where my mouth is, maybe.”

And just like that, her lips are hovering near Waverly’s clit, breath soft and teasing until she sucks Waverly into her mouth, her tongue hot and wet on Waverly’s flesh.

The cry that works its way into the air between them then is probably the loudest yet and Waverly finds herself grateful that they are not at the Homestead.

This is far from the first time that Nicole has done this - in fact Waverly can tell that she kind of gets off on eating her out - but the sensation is still so new and unexpected.

Champ had always found excuses not to do this to her and now that she knows what it feels like to have Nicole’s mouth against her core, Waverly is glad to have skipped it with her ex-boyfriend.

There is no way anything could compare to this.

The sensation of Nicole’s tongue moving against her is overwhelming, and it feels like she leaves her body for a moment every time it happens. Her vision swims as Nicole’s hand moves to grip at the curve of Waverly’s hip, short nails biting as Nicole brings Waverly forward and further into her mouth.

She keeps her fingers moving as she laps at Waverly’s wetness and Waverly feels every muscle in her legs begin to clench. It is all she can do not to urge Nicole closer as her core throbs against the rough, flat sweep of Nicole’s tongue.

Instead, she draws one of her hands out of Nicole’s hair, worried that it might be hurting her, and drops it into the place where Nicole has seized at Waverly’s hip. Their fingers tangle together, Nicole shifting so that she can hold Waverly’s hand as she draws her to the precipice.

She continues watching Waverly’s face, and it is probably the hottest thing Waverly has seen in her entire life.

Something in these two simple acts of intimacy, as well as in the way Nicole seems to revel in drinking her in, makes the pressure in Waverly’s belly build faster than she has ever experienced before until she comes fast and hard, without warning as her chest bursts with the explosion. It is sudden, sparking as she feels her walls clench around Nicole’s fingers and a fresh wave of wetness slip between her thighs. Her vision burns hot at the edges as she crests over and over, the aftershock like a firework painting the night in gemstones and only fading slowly to black again.

She can hear herself shouting, calling out Nicole’s name with something that is almost a sob, but it is as if she has lost some sort of connection between her brain and her body. She can feel her legs shaking, almost outside of her control, as Nicole holds her through it and brings her down with the soft pulse of her fingers still buried deep between Waverly’s thighs.

When the last gasp of Waverly’s orgasm passes, Nicole gently withdraws her hand, wiping her fingers casually and dropping her head gently against Waverly’s thigh, watching her with an awestruck look on her face.

Waverly slumps back against the pillows, barely aware she had been arched like a bow and feeling now as though every bone has been taken from her body. She feels a strange, demanding twitch pass through her as she notes the way Nicole’s lips glisten in the soft lamplight.

“That’s what I should be thinking about you,” she mutters, still catching her breath as the stars continue to twinkle behind the soft brown eyes. “I mean, I _am_. Obviously."

Nicole smiles, self-satisfied but perhaps a little self-conscious too.

“Was that - "

“Nicole,” Waverly heaves a laugh. “You _know_ thatit was.” 

Nicole laughs too, finally dragging herself up the bed and landing heavily on her stomach beside Waverly. She presses a hand, sticky and warm, against Waverly’s ribs.

“You can’t blame a girl for checking in.”

Waverly smiles. She forgets sometimes that Nicole needs reassurance too. It seems impossible when she is so damn good at this.

“No,” she murmurs softly, coasting a hand down the strong plane of Nicole’s back and skittering over the soft skin of her ass. “I really, really can’t.”

She leans in for a kiss, forgetting for a moment about the salty strong taste on Nicole’s tongue and moaning when she feels the wet slide of their lips joining together.

“Jesus, Wave,” Nicole husks, just about audible as Waverly presses her tongue into Nicole’s mouth, eager for more.

“I told you I’d get own back,” she jokes. “You know, if you just give me a second to get the use of all my limbs back.”

Nicole laughs, biting her lip and running a hand through Waverly’s hair.

“You don’t have to, you know.”

The sweetness in Nicole’s tone makes Waverly’s heart swell, because Nicole means it and she says it out of some inherent sense that things had not always been that way for Waverly. But at the same time, Waverly can feel the way Nicole’s skin burns as she smoothes some of the strain out of her shoulders. She wonders idly if it is as hard for Nicole to ignore the throb between her own legs, even as she insists that she doesn’t need Waverly to reciprocate if she doesn’t want to.

Waverly rolls onto her side and wriggles closer, pressing a kiss to Nicole’s temple.

“I know,” she whispers in Nicole’s ear, “but I really, really, _really_ want to.” She grazes her teeth over Nicole’s earlobe and they both sigh together, bodies thrumming again with anticipation. As indescribable as it is to feel Nicole coaxing her towards her peak, there is something magical - and vaguely powerful - in knowing that she can do the same. 

In fact, it sends another spark through Waverly to know that Nicole wants (maybe even _needs_ ) her too. She has never felt desired before, not like this. She has never felt so free to just touch and move and watch over the body laying next to her.

Waverly rests a hand against Nicole’s jaw, tilting her face and bringing their lips together again, pressing firm against Nicole in a deep, delicious kiss. There is no sense of chastity now, nothing like earlier in the night and Waverly rolls Nicole as they kiss, happy when Nicole yields easily and settles on her back so that Waverly can straddle her hips and slide a hand down Nicole’s stomach. She loves the feel of it underneath her fingers, strong muscles jumping under pale, milky skin.

Nicole drifts beneath her, legs parting so that Waverly can settle comfortably into the cradle of her hips. Already, she can feel the effects of the rest of the evening against her own thigh, finding Nicole beautifully slick and warm before she is even fully bare.

The slight graze of Waverly’s leg against her core has Nicole bearing down, her wanting presented beautifully in a series of tiny groans against Waverly’s lips.

And as much as Waverly feels like she is aflame when Nicole takes it slow, she always understands the appeal when it is her own turn to take control. She wants to place her hands everywhere, to breathe in the feeling of Nicole’s body moving softly beneath her. She wants to revel in Nicole’s pleasure for hours, wants to cling to her and never let go.

So she sets the pace with a slow, languorous, _torturous_ rocking of her hips. Each stroke is long and lazy and blissfully unhurried. She knows it is not close to enough contact, but that is not the aim - not right now. She cannot even say if this is something she should be doing, only that it feels right in the moment and that Nicole certainly does not seem to be complaining.

Her hands, indecisive and skittish, move everywhere they can reasonably reach, her lips sliding wetly against Nicole’s as she feels the other woman’s tongue against her bottom lip, begging an entry which Waverly is only too happy to grant.

Waverly can tell that even this simple contact is good for Nicole, because her body practically _sings_ with the sheer joy of the build up. It is evident too when Waverly finally pulls back to watch Nicole’s face and sees her eyes rolls back in pleasure. There are breathy moans emanating wonderfully from Nicole’s wet, swollen lips and they echo through Waverly’s body like thunder.  

For a while, she feels as though this delicious, laid-back contact could go on and on forever, but she knows just how desperately Nicole needs more.

More than that, Waverly wants to give it to her.

It is so beautiful, she thinks, all this knowing. It is unspeakably satisfying to learn these things about Nicole day-by-day, to become better acquainted with her body and her heart, and the satisfaction is as spiritual as it is sensual.

To know so easily the way Nicole bends when they are together like this, to know how her body takes and her body gives, is almost biblical. And it is so fundamentally different to sex with Champ and not just on an anatomical level. For all that she could ensure she got off while she was with Champ, physical intimacy with him was never equal parts _physical_ and _intimacy_ the way it is with Nicole.

Nicole gives and gives (even when she receives, she _gives_ ) and she is never more beautiful than when she is like this - although she is always completely beautiful in Waverly’s eyes. She reveals so little of who she is at heart to the rest of the world, but - like this, naked and sprawled beneath Waverly - she gives _everything_. She relinquishes control completely, and she steals Waverly’s breath with dark eyes and flushed cheeks and red, red hair all mussed against the pillows.

“You’re beautiful baby,” Waverly whispers in an echo of an earlier conversation, lips moving to Nicole’s cheeks, her jaw, her throat. “You’re _so_ beautiful.”

She says it again, and then again, because it bears repeating. It _always_ bears repeating.

At this, Nicole gasps out Waverly’s name like it is a prayer and the timbre of her voice reignites a tiny flame in Waverly once more.

But there will be time for that again later, because right now Nicole’s hips are moving like water, arching up to meet Waverly and it is time to finally give in to the strain of Nicole’s body.

She breaks away long enough to strip the last of Nicole’s clothing away, shuddering when she sees Nicole glistening and ready for her. It always knocks her sideways, realising that she can reduce Nicole to this.

“Oh, _sweetheart_ ,” she breathes, reverent and awestruck.

Nicole looks embarrassed, a faint blush cascading down her throat under the intensity of Waverly’s stare.

“You didn’t think I could get you off, have you touch me like _that_ , without ending up utterly soaked, did you?”

Waverly shakes her head a little, trying to clear it and Nicole smiles, holding a hand out for Waverly to take.

“You really don’t know what you do to me, do you?” she asks, pressing a sweet kiss to the back of Waverly’s palm.

“I think I’m learning,” Waverly admits, other hand stroking gently up the noble curve of Nicole’s waist, tracing the lines of her ribs. “But maybe you should tell me.”

“Well baby,” Nicole replies, smirking in challenge. “Maybe you should touch me.”

“I _am_ touching you.”

“Such a smart, pretty mouth you have there Miss Earp, but I think I prefer it when it’s on top of mine.”

The words hit Waverly square in her stomach and she relents immediately, dipping down to kiss Nicole hard. She rakes her fingers through all that soft, red hair and tugs ever so slightly in a way that makes Nicole groan. Her other hand snakes down between their bodies and runs through Nicole’s heat, spreading her arousal slightly and testing the strength of Nicole’s need.

In response, she is met with a tiny, keening sound as she strokes at Nicole’s clit and slowly builds to a pace that she already knows will make Nicole’s legs start to quiver.

One of Nicole’s hands bunches in the bedcovers and the other reaches out to the back of Waverly’s head, wordless imploring her for more kisses, more soft feather-down touches as their lips glance together.

As Nicole’s hips slowly start to undulate in time with her fingers, Waverly slips her other hand downwards and between Nicole’s folds and she feels the breath leave Nicole’s body when she teases a finger at her entrance.

When she finally pushes inside, Nicole’s mouth goes slack against Waverly’s and her chest heaves beneath her. And as nice as the closeness is, Waverly feels herself pulling away slightly to watch as she works between Nicole’s legs, still fascinated and painfully turned on to see her own fingers disappearing amongst the soft skin of Nicole’s body.

It doesn’t take long, not once Nicole sees where Waverly is looking.

Nicole’s release is somewhat like an avalanche; it builds and builds for so long that some might not see it coming, but then it _crashes_ down and it somehow engulfs them both.

Waverly already knows to look for some of the signs, just about remembers to drag her eyes back to Nicole’s face in time to catch her wrinkling her brow adorably as her eyelashes flutter when her eyes drift shut. Then comes the press of her top teeth into her bottom lip.

Nicole falls quietly, but it still somehow manages to ring in Waverly’s ears. She is so soft and tender like this, with her quiet, breathy moans and the litany of Waverly’s name drifting up from her lips, like the mere thought of Waverly is all that keeps her from floating away entirely.

The sight of Nicole’s release, the _sound_ of it, has always been enough to send a fresh rush of wetness through Waverly and tonight is no exception. It shakes Waverly right down to her bones, even as they gradually start to lose count of how many times they have dragged each other to this point.

And much as Waverly does not want to think of Champ in these moments, the earth-shattering passage of Nicole’s orgasm only serves to remind her how lacking in direction this moment had been with him. There was never any sense that his pleasure was tied specifically to Waverly in any way. With Nicole, though, it always feels like it is intrinsic; like she came _for_ Waverly, that the pleasure was specific to having _Waverly’s_ fingers against her core and drawing shudders through her body for as long as possible. 

She knows that her instincts are right; Nicole is open and communicative and she tells Waverly things, often without any words at all. With the sound of Waverly’s name on her tongue, Nicole has made it abundantly clear that her pleasure is very directed indeed.

Waverly cannot help but marvel every time Nicole comes. It is the most beautiful, honoured thing in the world.

Nicole seems to press her soul impossibly closer to Waverly’s every time they do this; she seems to mingle the starstuff between them, _a la_ Sagan himself.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Nicole says as her body finally settles, a shocked laugh bubbling up from her chest. “No way did you learn that all this recently.”

Waverly laughs with her, drifting back up to lay beside her like she is drawn on an invisible string.

“It’s all for you, Nicole,” she admits, close enough to keep her voice soft and quiet, like she is sharing a secret. In reality, that is precisely what she is doing. “It’s all because I want to make you feel good.“

“You _always_ make me feel good.”  

“I still can’t quite believe you want me like this,” she confesses, reaching out to tuck Nicole’s hair behind her ear.

As she draws back, Nicole reaches out to hold her hand again. When she speaks, her voice is low and serious.

“I have dreamt of nothing but you since the moment I first saw you Waves, how could I?”

It is tempting, in that moment, to talk of love and future possibilities, but Waverly knows that they have written their adoration all over each other’s skin all night.

There is so much still to experience, and Waverly has never felt quite so excited to step out and grab life with both hands. She had always been afraid of the freefall before, but it is easier when she knows that Nicole is somewhere on the ground, ready to catch her.

As the air finally stills around them, the first chill starts to seep back into Waverly and she presses herself into Nicole, barely stifling her yawn.

“Okay,” Nicole says, voice hushed and soothing, “time for some rest.”

She awkwardly draws the comforter out from beneath them, Waverly moving her body slowly to let Nicole pull the blankets free.

Already, she is drifting, but manages to mutter, “said I wanted you all night.”

This makes Nicole laugh loudly, but Waverly is too sleepy to be indignant.

“How about we sleep for a while first, yeah? I promise I’m not going anywhere babe.”

“Good,” Waverly huffs as Nicole’s soft sheets finally envelop them both, Nicole settling on the pillows beside her. She feels Nicole press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, sweet and earnest, and she arches into the touch.

Waverly wriggles around to get comfortable, curling up on her side and burying her face into Nicole’s neck.

She feels blissful, open, and more than anything else, safe. A brief nap only feels more and more appealing as she slips closer into restfulness.

“You know I’m going to wake you up later though, right?” she asks, mustering the last of her coherency to get the words out in the right order.

Nicole’s legs slide against hers in response.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way Waves.”

_And so it went._

**Author's Note:**

> Whew. Okay. 
> 
> That was a lot for me to write. Please please please just give an anxious British bi some reassurance in the comments or in my mentions. I promise I'll try and come back soon with another AU with a vague plot to it (or a S1 canon compliant thingymajig I'm working on. Each of my last three braincells has a different project - it's why we never get anything done around here). 
> 
> Anyway, I do in all seriousness hope you enjoyed this fic. Thanks so much for reading as always!! I always make sure I put a little picspam together for my fics, and this one can be found on twitter or tumblr: https://twitter.com/rositabustiIIos/status/1022237474272288768 or http://birositabustillos.tumblr.com/post/176277777188
> 
> As far as social media goes I now also have a ko-fi to try and help support writing a bit more full-time, so I can produce more fic and og stuff: https://ko-fi.com/alissawrites


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